Salazar's Protégé
by CRMediaGal
Summary: It's All Souls' Eve, and Severus Snape is in a glum mood. In an act of desperation, he summons his Sexual Spirit Guide via an unfamiliar spell, and what he encounters is more than he bargained for. Written for the 2014 HP Samhain Smut Fest on LiveJournal. MATURE. One-shot, AU, Pre-Hogwarts era.


**A/N: This piece was written for the 2014 Samhain Smut Fest on LiveJournal. I've made some grammatical changes here and there, as well as sought to improve the general ebb and flow of this piece since it was originally posted. However, the story itself is very much the same. You can find more information about my prompt below, including my important Author's Note that goes along with this one-shot.  
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**_Many thanks my lovely beta, Brittny, for her help, as always! _**

********Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her sandbox**. No money, just fun. Artwork is credited to Nyajinsky on DeviantArt and entitled "Snape's love".  
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><p><strong>LJ Fest: <strong>Samhain Smut Fest  
><strong>Prompter:<strong> Anonymous  
><strong>Creator:<strong> CRMediaGal  
><strong>Beta(s):<strong> Brittny  
><strong>Warning(s):<strong> D/s, Smut, Mild Language  
><strong>Prompt:<strong> M8 – Curse of the Founders  
><strong>Suggested CharacterPairing(s):** (optional) Any _Harry Potter_ character and his or her House Founder  
><strong>Suggested Kink(s):<strong> (optional) Your choice, but some ideas: masturbation techniques, enlargement spells, orgasm denial, creative use of household objects (9th century!)  
><strong>Additional Comments:<strong> Practicing ritual on All Souls Night, 20th century character(s) conjures up the founder of their house, and learns kinky adult things from them!

**Author's Notes:** _I decided to play around with the last part of the prompter's ideas (All Souls' Eve and a student conjuring his/her Founder to teach him/her kinky things), but I put a twist on things that I hope the prompter will still enjoy. In addition, I went with my own version of Salazar Slytherin that I've long pictured in my head over rather being canon compliant. In general, I opted for more realism than fantasy here, but hopefully this story feels angsty and creepy enough that it works. Many thanks to my wonderful beta for her help._

_**Salazar's Protégé**_

**By CRMediaGal**

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><p><em>"Ghosts, like ladies, never speak till spoken to."<em>  
>—Richard Harris Barham<p>

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><p>Severus Snape breathed an uncomfortable shudder as he aimlessly wandered along a dirt path that traveled the length of the Black Lake, his mind distracted from the crisp autumn chill that hung in the air. He despised winter, though not for weather-related reasons, but because, before he'd left Spinner's End for Hogwarts five years ago, winter signified his drunken, combative father frequenting the house more often than working at the mill. And <em>that<em> never made for a pleasant autumn and winter.

As it was, winter was approaching fast and furiously. Although it was only the beginning of November, the golden autumn season was quickly being overrun by frigid conditions, the trees robbed of their picturesque foliage and the leaves now mostly scattered upon the ground, shrivelled and dead.

Severus kicked a patch of dying grass at his feet and tore onward, against the rippling breeze that hit his exposed face. Somehow, since he'd begun his mindless stroll earlier that afternoon, the wind had kicked up a notch, and he was thankful for the scarf he had bundled around his neck and much of his face as he set off from the sanctuary of his dormitory to stray too far for comfort. The shabby school robes he wore offered little protection from November's strong gusts, however, and his gloves contained large holes in virtually every finger slot, leaving his slender digits brutally exposed to the wind; he'd forgotten to ask his mum to patch them before returning to school for the new term.

_Bugger shite._

Severus pressed his lips to the itchy material to keep his scarf from flying away in the breeze, the threat of the wind slapping his face momentarily forgotten in the next instant. _Lily._ It was Lily who'd knitted the scarf for him a year ago come Christmas time. He hadn't seen much of her lately. Well, he'd _seen_ her, of course—multiple times a day, in fact—but only at a distance, any glimpses of the redheaded beauty confined to meal times in the Great Hall, where Severus ate solemnly at the Slytherin table—alone—whilst Lily ate surrounded by her usual group of popular, giggly entourage.

Severus couldn't help but suspect that she was purposely avoiding him these days. Had he done something of late to piss her off more than usual? Not that he could recall. If they were ever in disagreement, it was mostly over his growing interest in the Dark Arts, which, as far as Severus was concerned, was nothing for Lily to carry an opinion about, or one of his malevolent Slytherin housemates, or those bloody bullies that kept harassing him—the Maraunders—for the past five years. Potter, the ringleader, had been hassling Lily all autumn to go out with him, too. Thankfully, she'd maintained enough sense to turn Potter's ill efforts of persuasion down. So far.

_Why is she avoiding me?_

Normally, it was Lily seeking Severus's company at least once a week to catch up and chat, and she would always wave to him in the Great Hall when they caught sight of one another at their respective tables. However, she hadn't spoken to him or so much as waved in his direction in weeks.

_Sixteen days, if we're going to be accurate..._

It was Lily and this supposed latest strop with him that had led an anxious Severus to rove around the Black Lake for nearly two and a half hours in the bitter cold, mindless of the sun beginning to set behind the Forbidden Forest or his stomach lurching over the fact that he'd missed dinner.

It was only once moonlight finally appeared in the night sky that Severus realised, whilst walking along the furthest point about the lake, that his legs were tired from so much walking and that he could no longer view the dirt path in front of him.

_Bugger shite._

Severus shivered and extracted his wand in order to light his way back to the warmer comforts of Hogwarts castle, taking the steps two at a time to the dungeons, where he convulsed again at the frigid draft that whipped through his shabby robes straight to his very skin. He was still starving, but going to bed hungry wasn't uncustomary for Severus, so he ignored his stomach's persistent grumblings and passed through the Slytherin common room, where a few students were scattered throughout, completing homework for the following Monday, to his personal bedchambers.

Upon entry, he found a befuddling sight that made him stop short. His bunkmates, Avery and Mulciber, were seated cross-legged in the centre of the floor facing one another, a large tome opened between them. Their wands were out and perched against their knees as their lips whispered something—an incantation, judging from the intensity in their concentration—that Severus's ears hadn't picked up on before.

At the sound of the door creaking open, both fifth years stopped short of what they were trying to accomplish and whipped their heads around to glare Severus down, their annoyance at the interruption more than apparent. Severus merely rolled his eyes and sauntered to his bed not far away, ignoring the traveling pairs of eyes upon his lanky figure as he silently toed off his shoes, picked up a book from the current stack on his bedside table, and plopped himself effortlessly down onto his bed, ignoring their blatant stares.

"You could've knocked, you know," Avery muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Severus to hear.

The fluttering of a page turning on the floor prompted Severus to peer down at them from over his book. "I could've," he answered plainly, a sneer of 'whatever' plainly written across his sharp features that instantly provoked Avery's irritation.

"Don't you wanna know what we're doin'?" Mulciber goaded him, his pale, pimply skin drawing back into an absolutely malicious smile of ill intent.

Severus had stretched himself out on his bed, one foot crossed nonchalantly over the other, with his book propped in both hands. His raven eyes, though curious, drew from one boy to the other, conveying forced indifference.

"Not particularly," he answered after drawing out the silence a moment longer.

Avery grumbled again through gritted teeth and shook his head, but Mulciber, undoubtedly the more sinister of the two—for it was well known amongst those in their house that his father was quite the diabolical Death Eater in the Dark Lord's inner circle—squinted his dark eyes at Severus as though he had just snubbed his pureblooded ancestors.

"What," he snipped and whipped pieces of greasy hair away from his pimple-infested face, "you suddenly all high and mighty and above this stuff were doin', _Severus_?"

Severus raised a challenging eyebrow. "This..._stuff_?" he quipped coolly in return; Mulciber, at last, had the decency to look embarrassed at his poor choice of words. Avery simply snorted and shook his head at his house mate. "You call practicing and perfecting Dark Arts magic, Mulciber—a feat not so easily managed but a carefully crafted, delicate execution of incantations and wand magic, which is _obviously_ what you're doing now—mere..._stuff_?" A curve of a smile that was not at all comforting to either party formed at the side of Severus's thin mouth. "I daresay your father wouldn't be pleased to hear such idiocy being spoken by his only son."

Mulciber's slouched back went straight and rigid. "_Piss off, why don't you?_" he hissed through clenched, crooked teeth, his wand giving a slight jolt that he hadn't noticed.

Avery startled and scooted backward at the small sparks that ignited and hit the book between them. "What the bloody hell, Mulc—"

"I shan't," Severus spat over Avery's angry jab, narrowing his eyes at Mulciber from the comforts of his bed. "This is _my_ room, too. I'll stay and read if I like."

"Then why don't you come over and try this summoning spell yourself since you think yourself so above us, _Severus_?"

"Um, Mulciber..." Avery nervously attempted to interject; the heavy tome in the centre of the room was now hovering slightly off the floor and starting to quiver unusually.

"Unlike you, Mulciber," Severus continued to spit fire back at his bunkmate, "I don't foolishly 'try' anything when it comes to the Dark Arts, especially if it's something I'm unfamiliar with and requires all thought and concentration, both of which you clearly lack."

Severus paused to purposely eye the trembling book that hadn't yet captured Mulciber's attention; it had risen higher into the air.

"Fine! _Coward!_ Avery and I will go else—"

The pages of the book suddenly burst to life with an angry roar, its contents thrashing from one page to the next as it began spinning violently in a circle. Avery and Mulciber scooted backward like two skittish dogs with their tails between their legs, Avery to the doorway and Mulciber to the opposite wall, eyes widened in terror.

Severus, on the other hand, sprung to his feet, wand flourished from beneath his robes. _Idiots!_ he inwardly cursed his dunderheaded roommates and directed his wand at the swivelling, angry book. Its screams were growing in intensity, forcing Avery and Mulciber to protect their ears rather than shield themselves. Severus was the only one of the three to try and put a stop to the madness by casting a number of spells, which caused the book to slam shut and topple back to the ground with a great _thud_.

By the time Mulciber had caught up with what was happening, his heart pounding furiously in his chest and his mind running a mile a minute, Severus was hovering over him, wand aimed at the shocked boy's head. "What did you call me?" Severus asked in such a menacing whisper that it made the hairs on the back of Mulciber's neck stand on end.

"I..." Mulciber quickly tried to dive responsibility by puffing up his chest; Severus could easily decrypt the fear suspended in his eyes, though. "Nothing."

"That's what I thought." Severus directed a haughty sneer from Mulciber to Avery, each of whom held a mixture of trepidation and humiliation on their shocked countenances as never seen before. Using their stunned silence to his advantage, Severus summoned the sensitive Dark Arts material they'd been meddling with with a swiftly casted _Accio_. "This 'stuff' isn't for dabblers, you fools," he reprimanded them as if they were children. "Either you both have an innate death wish or are dafter than I initially believed; I suspect the latter."

Mulciber curled his upper lip in indignation, his cheeks radiating more colour. "Piss off, you—"

"_And you're bloody welcome_," Severus snarled over what would have surely been another insult; his wand gave a twitch that sent Mulciber cowering against the stone wall. "Next time, I'll let whatever the hell you were conjuring in this book take care of ending you for me. Get out."

"What?" Avery challenged in a weak voice. "You can't order us—"

"_Fuck. Off._"

Without needing further coaxing, the two hot-headed buffoons scattered out the door, slamming it behind them as they sprinted away from the incriminating scene.

It was against school policy to bring such dangerous books into the safety of Hogwarts. Severus suspected it had probably been smuggled in by Mulciber's father, but he didn't give a piss really about the sordid details. Getting caught meddling with Dark Arts magic usually resulted in an immediate expulsion. His foolish bunkmates were fortunate it was he who'd walked in on them just now and not someone else. Not every Slytherin took such an avid interest in these particularly controversial pursuits, so Avery and Mulciber were fortunate.

_As long as they stay far, far away from me for the next couple hours I don't give a shite what they do._

Severus wasn't one to get into rows with fellow peers in his house too often. He didn't consider any of them his friends, though. Avery and Mulciber were two whom he merely tolerated for their mutual interests in the Dark Arts. He certainly wasn't the type to take the piss—from anyone—and it was a fierce trait of his that those in his house well understood by now. Well, those who actually ever _recognised_ the scrawny, large-nosed fifth year with straggly, black hair and shady eyes. Severus could normally go about unnoticed or without raising much attention, but then, every so often, such as this evening, when his sharp tongue made itself known and his impressive wand waving was on display, the combination earned him a raised eyebrow or two.

The book made a sudden vibration in Severus's hand. A sound akin to a moan, too, echoed from within the pages. Severus peered down at its unfamiliar title, _Disrupting the Dead: The Practice of the Darker Elements_, and his curiosity heightened. An unnerving churning in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with lack of food began, setting his anxiety on edge.

Cautionary dark eyes roamed the title several more times. Even for someone who was as fascinated by the Dark Arts as Severus Snape, his smarts told him that mere browsing of an unfamiliar book could get one into serious trouble, academically as well as physically and mentally. There was great personal risk in allowing one's curiosity to wander too far. However, Severus wasn't an innocent observer when it came to any aspect of his life, and, before he realised that his intrigue had gotten the better of his senses, he was flipping through the first few pages, feeding his thirst for more details about the book's contents.

The further Severus skimmed, the more its spine invoked a number of strange tremors that set his innocent soul a flight. He could understand why its pages weren't worn or seemingly often perused, for meddling with the spirits of the dead, as the title suggested, even amongst the most practiced worshippers of the Dark Arts, was highly frowned upon.

_You're only looking. No harm, no foul, right? Besides, what the devil were those two dimwits trying to conjure just now?_

Severus greedily searched the tome for any hint of a spell, incantation, or curse that might provide him the clues as to Avery's and Mulciber's wrongdoing until, nearly halfway through the book, he stumbled upon a chapter that caught his eye: "All Souls' Night - The Eve for Summoning Your Sexual Spirit Guide."

_'Sexual Spirit Guide'—_

"Huh?" he blurted aloud, scrunching up one side of his hooked nose, perplexed, yet highly intrigued by what he'd read.

Was there really such thing as a Sexual Spirit Guide? He'd never heard of such folly.

Did everyone possess such a teacher, capable of teaching them sex beyond the grave? And, by sex, was it mere intercourse, or...was there more? Did their teachings extend to foreplay, masturbation, sexual magic, games, toys?

_For a bloody virgin, Severus, you're getting yourself awfully excited over something so stup—_

That was as far as Severus's berating conscience got. The book gave a sudden jerk and shot out of his hand, toppling onto the floor before he could seize it by its spine. The pages flapped and flipped rapidly, emitting a strong gust through the room, and then it stopped flipping on the very page Severus had been studying. An eerie humming noise, elevating to a loud moan within seconds, reverberated from the book's page, much to Severus's trepidation.

Carefully, Severus took a step closer, the hairs on the back of his neck rising to attention when the words on the page unexpectedly began to glow a cardinal red. _What in the—_

"What eager protégé steps hither, untouched and unspoiled for my spirit to claim?" a deep voice rang out, sending chills up the back of Severus's spine; he froze in place, fingers laced tightly around his wand.

A few seconds later the book clamoured. Severus immediately stepped back, wand ready to cast the book shut, when the creepy male voice issued a low moan and spoke again. "Severus Snape..."

Severus blinked, petrified, yet somehow attracted to this mystifying phenomenon. "Y - Yes?" he stammered, his voice quivering slightly.

"You are he who is unspoiled, are you not?"

Severus cringed but bravely answered in a soft voice, "I am..."

"You have summoned me, seeking pleasures, have you not?"

_Seeking...what?_ Severus made a contorted, screwy face. Somehow, this book had unearthed both his name _and_ that he was a virgin. He wasn't convinced whether he should disengage now while he still maintained some sanity or investigate further. _I'm_ not _a bloody coward_, he told himself, remembering Mulciber's nasty taunt from minutes ago.

Gathering his courage, Severus took a small step closer, staring intently at the vibrant page from whence the unknown voice had addressed him. "Who are you?" he commanded as steadily as he could.

"I am the spirit you've summoned."

"I've summoned no one," Severus countered, his suspicions mounting.

"You _did_ summon me."

"No, I didn't—"

"You referred to yourself as a virgin."

"How... How do you know that? I never said so!"

"My Slytherin, you should exercise more caution. Even books are capable of reading minds..."

Severus felt his flesh break out in goosebumps. He swallowed thickly, questioning in a quieter tone, "_Your_ Slytherin?"

"Yes... You, those boys who were attempting unsuccessfully to conjure me just now... You are _all_ my Slytherins, Severus Snape."

Severus was struck by such a confident declaration. How the hell did this book know him? The rational part of his brain was screaming to turn his back at once, close the book, hand it over to Avery and Mulciber and demand that they send it back wherever it came from—

"You opened me. Your curiosity led you to seek me out. If you had no need of me, you'd have discarded me, Severus."

"Stop saying my name!" he hissed, wand hand starting to tremble.

"But, that is who you are."

"_How can you read my mind?_"

"How can I not? You _are_ my protégé, after all."

"I'm— Wait, what?"

"My protégé. I can only be summoned by one. That someone is_ you_."

"_Who - Who are you?_" Severus demanded a second time with more urgency. This wasn't smart. He should close the book now and be done with this nonsense.

"Finish what you started, and I shall reveal who I am."

"But, I never summoned—"

"Use your mind, Severus. You already know how..."

Severus frowned intensely down at the book wheedling him into its magical grip, bewildered and put off by his own inability _not_ to be enticed by its mysteries. The book wasn't providing him any answers, only provoking him. _That_, in itself, was a deeply embedded warning sign going off at the back of Severus's mind, but he willfully avoided it as he stepped closer and knelt down before the illuminated page, silently claiming defeat. Directions for the conjuring spell were highlighted in blood red and, at once, Severus proceeded to read them carefully, swishing his wand in a circle as he hummed the incantation like a song:

_O, Spirit, thee, who lingers in waiting_  
><em>I see thine eyes, I hear thy voice<em>  
><em>I quiver, I fear your anticipation<em>

_O, Spirit, thee, who lingers hither_  
><em>I sense thine stare, I hear thy melody<em>  
><em>I shiver, I awaken at your distemper<em>

_O, Spirit, thee, who has awaited me_  
><em>I see thine soul, I bid thee come hither<em>  
><em>I quaver, I implore thy make my body see<em>

_O, Spirit, thee, on All Souls' Night_  
><em>I wish thy here, I want thy's sight<em>  
><em>I waver, I beseech thee show thy might<em>

Severus stepped back when the song was completed, heart clenched in his throat, as the text on the page appeared to breathe and release a sigh into the air; or perhaps it was the voice that had simply done so. Either way, it seemed to come alive before his very eyes, the words glowing brighter and redder until he was nearly blinded by the luminosity it produced, and was forced to shield his eyes.

Seconds later, Severus chanced a glimpse between his fingers. The light had faded, leaving much of the room as dim as it had been before. The book was still opened to the same page, but the words had lost their lustre and resumed their normal black ink.

Severus was pondering the spell he'd issued—All Souls' Night, a long, blindly held Muggle-minded superstitious holiday, according to the majority of the Wizarding world—when he suddenly realised that he was no longer alone in the room. A figure was standing—nay, hovering off the ground—just beyond the opened book, and yet, it was a distinguished face Severus recognised, though it took him a few seconds to come to his senses and determine who he was.

"My... My god!" he gasped, hitching a sharp breath, and collapsed to the floor. "_Y - You_..."

"Use your tongue, Severus," the strong voice commanded, see-through eyes dark and majestic. "As I understand, you're quite a master with it."

It was a rarity for Severus to ogle anyone, alive or dead, but he quickly found himself slamming his mouth shut, embarrassed by his display. His ears, concealed behind curtains of hair, turned beet red. He mustered enough composure to try to speak again, though comprehension felt like a strangely foreign concept now.

"You...are my...Spirit Guide?"

"_Sexual_ Spirit Guide, Severus," he corrected with a suggestive smirk that forced Severus to blink hard, as if the individual in the room weren't, in fact, real. "And, yes, that is I."

"But... But _how_?"

"You are my protégé," the male spirit repeated for him without so much as a shrug, "and I am your teacher."

"_No._ There must be some mistake."

"Mistake?" the spirit questioned with a confused angle of his head.

"Wouldn't—_shouldn't_—Tom Riddle be your - your protégé?"

"Ahhh, yes," the spirit conveyed in understanding before shaking his head and eying Severus sharply. "You gravely misunderstand your role, Severus Snape."

At that, Severus's befuddlement was written plainly across his wide-eyed features. _'Role'?_ He squirmed, not at all liking where this was headed. _Protégé... Heir of Slytherin..._

Were they one and the same? Was that what he was implying?

"No," the voice answered in a frank manner that caused Severus to jolt, remembering that he could read his thoughts. "He is _not_ my heir, though he arrogantly believes himself to be! He has made some impressive strives, this Riddle character, I'll give him that, but, _you_, Severus Snape... Yes, I see great potential in you."

"No, that - that's not what I want!"

Severus threw up his hands in protest, wand uncharacteristically dropping out of his now unsteady hand.

"I know, Severus. You disappoint me, but I see potential in you yet. There's still time..."

"_I didn't summon you for this!_" Severus's insistence rose in desperation.

Slowly, the eminent spirit hovering before him shook his head. "No, you're correct; you did not. Not this time."

Severus's pale face relaxed, albeit marginally. He continued to gape at the spirit in wonder, hardly able to grasp that this was in any way real.

"Are you...? Are you _really_ my...Sexual Spirit Guide?"

"I am," he answered simply.

Severus remained unsatisfied with such ordinariness, however. "But, you're..."

"Salazar Slytherin," he, at last, acknowledged, confirming Severus's reasonable shock and uncertainty.

_Merlin... The Founder of Slytherin... Here! In my bedroom! Summoned by - by me!_

"Only a virgin, a true Slytherin, and _my_ protégé could summon me to him. You needn't be so shocked, Severus."

Again, Severus found himself momentarily bereft of words. How could he not gaze for a moment or two in silent amazement?

It was the spirit of the one and only Salazar Slytherin, suspended in the middle of his dormitory and as esteemed—and presaging—as he'd reportedly been in life. He appeared as he had in every single textbook illustration and any pictorial reference Severus had ever come across, though his features were more razor-edged than any master with a paintbrush had captured.

Salazar Slytherin was considerably tall, with a dark, well-trimmed goatee, a receding hairline and dark, thin hair that flowed to his waistline. A small braid on the side of his head, adorned in green and silver ribbon (though it was see-through along with the rest of him) added to Salazar's precarious allure. His nose was long and fine, his cheeks sunken in but high and elegantly shaped, and his eyes were a piercing grey that reminded Severus of Lucius Malfoy's, a Slytherin housemate several years his senior. He wore stylish emerald-coloured robes cut in a shiny, silver trim, with leather boots of black and an equally impressive leather wand holder attached to an intricately carved belt.

The founder of Severus's house was exactly as he would have pictured him, only handsomer and more dignified than any illustration or his imagination could have conjured. For a moment, it made his chest swell with pride to look upon the founder of Slytherin House and know that _he_, too, stemmed from such an illustrious line of powerful wizards and witches that had come before him.

Then, reality came crashing back to him the moment Salazar moved, gliding over the book as no human could possibly do. Severus could see flickers of the stone wall and wooden door through Salazar's ghost, and his heart dropped into his stomach.

Why had he done this? Why had he given into temptation? More importantly, what exactly was a Sexual Spirit Guide—in this case, Salazar Slytherin himself!—going to propose doing with him? This was dark, unfamiliar magic, and he'd tricked himself into believing this was a relatively smart idea.

"Your thoughts are unusually loud, Severus. I suggest you work on quieting them."

Severus shrunk from that observance, long, limp strands falling forward to half mask his humiliation. He peered up at the imposing spirit of Salazar between his curtains of unwashed hair, apprehensive about what was to come.

"Now, then," Salazar began, placing his hands behind his back, "you seek to be fulfilled, yes?"

"S - Sir?" Severus questioned, not following that line of questioning.

Salazar, who was pacing back and forth in front of him, though his legs never touched the floor, shot him a peculiar glare. "You're a virgin, and inexperienced, but you'd _like_ to change that, wouldn't you?"

"Well... I..."

"Speak up, boy. Demand what you want."

Severus's back straightened in response, his chin forcing its way upward somehow. "Yes," he softly confessed, "I... I would."

"Very good." Salazar gave a curt nod and drew closer; Severus reared back, uneasy with being so close to this renowned figure, even it was merely his ghost and not his person. "You have someone in mind, I trust?"

Severus's mental shield came down on Salazar like a slamming, locked door. His eyes, too, retreated from their former openness, his conscience unwilling to betray him this time. Salazar Slytherin would not unearth a thing about Lily Evans. Not only would the Founder's spirit be cross if he knew Severus harboured feelings for a Muggle-born witch, but he was likely to spew bigotry about his good friend that Severus wasn't remotely interested in hearing.

"Hmmm. Yes..." Salazar observed with cool calculation. "You must. Your mind's gone quiet."

"What's any of that to _you_?"

"Well, it would help me to know what angle I'm working with."

"'_Angle'?_" Severus seethed, cheeks burning bright.

"Boy or girl?"

_Oh..._ Some of Severus's infuriation deflated.

"Girl," he surmised to provide, though quietly.

Salazar's grey eyes danced with provocation. "Very well. If you wish to please her between her legs then you must exercise exceptional use of your hands, cock, and, most importantly, your mind. That shall be your greatest test."

Severus couldn't help but cringe at the crass image Salazar's words formulated of innocent Lily. He never referred to his long-standing friend as some sort of object to make his submissive, and it sounded like that was precisely what Salazar Slytherin intended to teach him: to dominate and make her submit to his will, if his mind had anything to do with this process.

Yet Severus was curious about such teachings, too. He was a male, after all, with the same innate sexual desires as any inexperienced schoolboy, and he had the Founder of his house prepared to teach him the ropes of wooing the complexity that was woman. More than that, his Founder was going to provide instruction on controlling another, and himself, through the most pleasurable and wild of practices: sex.

"I want you to lie down and make yourself comfortable," Salazar instructed him, much to Severus's growing bundle of nerves and perverse excitement. He did as Salazar ordered, conjuring a pillow to place beneath his head, and awkwardly laced his hands together on top of his stomach, uncertain as to how exactly he was to put his mind at ease; it felt nearly impossible. "Now, I want you to close your eyes and visualise this lady friend of yours in your mind. You needn't describe her or tell me her name, since you're obviously set against me knowing such compromising details," Salazar added with a notably wicked jab, "but think of her as if she were here with you now, in this room, her desires matching yours."

With as much composure as he could muster, Severus forced his eyes shut and evoked the Lily Evans of his dreams, exercising little effort to do so. This Lily was drastically different from the inexperienced one he knew in life; she was sultrier, uninhabited, hungry for pleasure. In his mind, she was gentler towards him, too, more accepting of his physical flaws, and even intrigued by his darker pursuits.

_Lily..._

Severus watched this sexy version of his friend flutter about him, flirting and wanting to be near. She played with his hair, breathed heavily on his neck, and explored him teasingly with her hands. It was obvious that she desired to feel him up; to test the unique taste of his lips with a full on passionate snog on the mouth.

"Mmm," he heard Salazar moan like a cat purring at being stroked, "she's lovely, Severus. Such fiery red hair... Such exquisite eyes... Such playful seduction..."

_No._

An inner surge of possession suddenly came over him. In his mind, Severus wrapped an arm tightly around Lily's shoulders and brought her to his chest, eyes narrowed in challenge.

"Relax, Severus. I shan't take her from you," Salazar chuckled, amused by this dramatic change in character. "This is only a possibility. It is up to _you_ to make it your reality." Although Severus was deeply puzzled by the unclarity of that statement, he consented to allow Salazar to continue. "Now, I want you to imagine her kissing you not on the mouth, but elsewhere. Make her submit to _your_ will. Make her crave you and do whatever you wish.

"Remember: women love to be teased and tormented, not only physically but mentally as well, by a man who's unafraid to dominate them. The key is to make it a game of fun—a thrill in the most naughty, impolite sense. Do no harm, and she'll pine for more."

_'Do no harm, and she'll pine for more.'_

All of sudden, Severus was towering over a naked Lily, whose green irises had turned utterly famished in the blink of an eye. She was disrobing at his quiet but intense insistence, Severus's larger hands ripping and tearing at the fabric of her robes whilst she moaned and whispered her permission. Two milky, perfectly perky breasts appeared as Lily's clothing fell away and, greedily, Severus coiled his fingers around them, fondling her nipples until they were two hardened buds, at which point he squeezed and lightly pulled at them to the point that Lily was squirming exotically for more.

_How did I know to do this?_

Severus couldn't relate whether any of this enticing imagery was his doing, for he hardly recognised the probability of a sexual master laying dormant inside of him all this time, or if it was Salazar running this show. He contended to whatever lay in store, however, feeling his very real cock back in his bedroom hardening with every grope of Lily's breasts and devouring kiss to her puffy lips, the pounding pulse point on her neck or the seductive indentation at the centre of her clavicle.

_Oh, Lily..._

Finally, Severus's mouth enfolded around each nipple, sucking and tonguing taunting circles around each sensitive bud with such precision that the part of him watching himself was speechless. Lily was writhing and breathing heavily, intoxicated, begging for Severus to go down on her; but, as his eager lips began to do her bidding, Salazar's powerfully rich voice stopped him in his tracks.

"_No_, Severus. Make _her_ submit to _you_."

As though watching his self-assured actions through a mirror, Severus slowly rose to his feet, remote black eyes staring down at a pouty Lily, no sympathy or mutual lust apparent in their cold depths. His upper lip curled, revealing a shiver-inducing sneer that caused Lily's hands to reach up and tug forcefully at his arms.

In quick response, Severus snatched up a handful of red hair at the back of Lily's neck and pulled her down, at first unwillingly, but, as she peered deeper into Severus's eyes, she conceded in silence to his command. She readily fell to her knees, her pale, freckled face directly in line with the bunched material at the crotch of Severus's trousers.

Severus provided his wishes to her in an emotionless tone, and Lily didn't hesitate to follow through on his orders. She unbuttoned his trousers, dragged them down around his ankles (along with his unflattering cotton boxers), thereby tugging his erection free of its confinements, and licked her lips.

An observing Severus on the sidelines shivered at such a sultry gesture of want from his friend whom he harboured deeper sentiments for. Would she—_could_ she—ever desire him like _this_?

Ravenously, Lily's mouth wrapped around the mushroom tip of Severus's cock, and one of her small hands began to cup and caress his balls simultaneously, paying both equal stimulation. Severus's hand remained firmly sealed around a patch of Lily's hair on top of her head, guiding her warm, wet mouth on and off of him, sometimes letting her expose his tip to the brisk air before forcing her to swallow him once more. All the while, Lily peered up at this dominant Severus, watching, mewing, eager to please and satisfy him.

Severus could hardly believe himself capable of holding such power and hold over another, let alone Lily. He'd _never_ envisioned her like this: sucking him off hard and furiously as if he was a lollipop, her eyes wrought with appetite and her determination feverish. It was the most erotic and most satisfying dream he'd ever had; or, was it a dream?

'It is up to _you_ to make it your reality,' Salazar's words suddenly repeated at the back of his mind.

Severus tried to shake his head free of that thought, though momentarily, for the sensual imagery before him hadn't altered. The highly confident Severus he was observing had since thrown his head back, clearly enjoying such a marvellous incentive that was being offered to him. His narrow hips buckled as his breathing started coming in uneven spurts.

"_Control_, Severus," Salazar commanded, and, with that, Severus stopped Lily short of finishing him off. He bent his neck to her to convey, in silence and through his eyes alone, his satisfaction with how she'd performed.

Then, Severus eased Lily back onto her knees, giving her legs a short break, and released his grip on her hair. After stepping out of his trousers, and using the aid of his wand that had been tucked away in one of the pockets, he coerced the witch's arms behind her back and secured them in place with a knotted rope. His dark eyes kept conveying to Lily all the while that there would be no harm brought upon her for what he was about to do whilst younger Severus watched this exchange in fascination but also trepidation. Lily was complying without a struggle.

A wooden chair was conjured into the centre of the room and, exercising little effort on his part, Severus scooped Lily up into his arms, took a seat on the chair, and bent her over his thighs, thereby placing her plush backside and pussy in plain view. A trail of her essence was dripping down from between her folds, and the sight made both Severuses shudder with delight.

The seemingly more skilled side of him began stroking two digits up and along the outside of Lily's dampened crotch several times over, though he never made contact with her highly sensitive clit or touched the inside of her pussy lips. Lily groaned and wiggled excitedly, obviously wishing that Severus do more than just massage her from the outside; but, Severus wouldn't consent, and every time Lily whimpered or tried to entice his hands to move elsewhere, he used his wand to thrash her backside, leaving violent slash marks along each perfectly round globe. Lily would shiver and convulse each time she was struck, and, though she tried to remain quiet, she ultimately couldn't win the physical and mental battle in play. It didn't take long for Severus's delicate fingers to have her crying out—_pleading_ profusely, more like—for more, which only earned her more spanking and harsh, red markings on her buttocks.

"_Yes_," Salazar hissed, his mouth stretched into a wicked grin. "You're doing well, Severus. _Very_ well."

"But... I..." a watching Severus tried to express but seemed to lack the capacity.

How was he, an unseasoned, celibate young male, able to accomplish such things? Lily was actually being turned on at being thrashed and manhandled?

The answer came to him unprepared by his Sexual Spirit Guide. "Because _I_ am teaching you how, my naive protégé..."

Severus found some inner relief in that explanation. He felt himself able to watch with slightly greater enjoyment now that he knew none of this was, in fact, his doing; or so he'd assumed from his Founder's answer.

To Severus's heightened arousal, the more proficient self he was watching in his mind began using his wand in other sexual ways not previously considered. Instead of using his fingers to finally appease Lily's desperate urges, he exercised his wand to 'finger' her, poking the instrument in and out of her pussy until it was left red and swollen and dripping of her essence.

By that point, Lily was nearly grinding onto his wand, but her desire to come wasn't about to be given. Severus pulled out of her with such unanticipation that Lily throttled on his thighs, whining and panting and cursing under her breath, something Severus had never heard her do with his own ears. It was...deliciously raunchy.

Severus waved his wand in a circle to break the tie on Lily's bound wrists. She patted herself free off of Severus and onto the floor, where she scooted around and looked up into Severus's hard, raven orbs, her own sweet face flushed and perspiring and nearly mad with the ache to come.

Severus said nothing, however. There was a silent exchange of utmost trust simmering in both of their eyes, which the observing Severus couldn't negate, particularly by what happened next.

A spell cast by his wand suddenly shot at Lily's naked flesh, throwing her backward onto the floor, where she began writhing and clobbering violently, moaning and mewling for such relief as Severus had never heard before in his life.

It was a dark, sexual curse of some kind—one Severus naturally wasn't familiar with but the one he was watching apparently was—and he'd never forget what it entailed or how it affected the victim, for Lily shook to the point that her entire body was spasming out of control. Her legs helplessly kicked the air and her feet stomped the ground in frustration, her legs spread wide in supposed imploring that a hovering Severus nearby, his cock raised and pointed towards her entry, finally put her out of her misery. Her wide eyes conveyed as much, too, though, to an observing Severus's surprise, they didn't appear at all frightened or put out by what she was experiencing. They were mad; Mad with uncontrollable lust.

"You've successfully dominated her sexually," Salazar explained slowly to him as he circled Severus and Lily in the boy's mind, "both mind and body. Only once she has completely given herself over to your will should you submit to letting her be assuaged."

Severus angled his head and raised a dubious eyebrow at the scene unfolding. "This doesn't look pleasurable. It... It looks torturous."

"Hardly, Severus. You see her eyes? Do they look tortured to you?"

"No, but—"

"You've established a trust with her, and she continues to show you her faith and commitment."

"What's the curse?"

"Curse?" Salazar issued a dismissive snort. "No, Severus, you mustn't think of it as a curse but sexual magic of the highest pleasure. Every nerve ending—every sensitive spot in her body—has been set aflame. Imagine the indescribable feelings she's experiencing. She convulses because what's occurring is beyond the physical; beyond what one's own sexual appetite can fulfil. You've given her a tremendous gift—"

"Without allowing her relief," Severus finished, the frown he wore thoroughly unhappy. "No more of this, sir. Show me how to pleasure her! _Properly_!"

"What do you know of 'proper' sex, boy?" accused Salazar in a sudden dark tone that left Severus cowering. "_Is that not why I'm here?_"

"Y - Yes, but—"

"Then you shall take my guidance, my presumptuous protégé, and you shall take it with_out_ questioning my methods."

Severus lowered his head a fraction and kept both shrewd eyes upon his self and the Lily in his dreams, refusing to search out the surely unhappy presence of Salazar Slytherin now, wherever he may be.

The scene commenced, though Severus no longer found much enthusiasm in seeing Lily flailing about, unable to stop the curse thrust upon her by his wand, whilst his own more self-assured self wore an indifferent sneer about the whole thing. Somehow, that cold sneer didn't resemble his fifth-year self; it was older, crueler, bitterer...

"You shall see," said Salazar in a menacing-like hiss that had Severus breaking out into goosebumps.

Thankfully, Lily ceased shaking at last. Once she finally stilled, she stared up into Severus's face, her tortured body motionless save for her laboriously moving chest, as if silently expressing her permission for whatever he intended next.

Severus lowered himself over top of her, his own lean form now stripped bare, and motioned Lily's legs further apart with his outer thighs, placing himself snug in between. Lily drew her legs upward, her movements nearly catatonic in how her lithe body slivered beneath him, and arched her back in anticipation as Severus aligned himself at her entrance.

Then, he thrust into her—not gently but with force—and Lily's eyes rolled to the back of her head as the tip of his cock met that highly responsive spot that caused her to gasp sharply and her stomach to clench. He proceeded to pound into her hard, one hand seizing the back of her head to keep her pinned in place, as he rode them both to completion.

Severus's breath was hard and thick on her neck, and her chest rose and collapsed in tune with their rapidly operating bodies, each moving in perfect unison with the other, desperate to bring themselves over the edge once and for all. The transparency of truth that still hovered in their eyes was unchanged as Lily, at long last, reached her peak first. This time, Severus allowed her to break apart, and she cried out his name and dug her nails into his forearms as her orgasm exploded. He followed soon after, coming fast and furiously, with a strong, definitive twitch of his cock, and collapsed overtop of her when his climax passed into humming bliss.

There, on the ground, the two remained for a time, sweaty, nude, and blissfully shaken of their former chastity. The air was strangely dense with something the watching Severus couldn't quite put his finger on, but he didn't like it. It made his nose twitch and the hairs on his arms stand up.

Lily was patiently awaiting Severus to make the first move, and, eventually, he unlocked his grasp on her hair and raised himself so that he might peer directly into her eyes, the pair of them still panting from their copulation. His white hand drew slowly from the back of her head down her cheeks to the nape of her neck, where those long fingers unexpectedly looped around Lily's neck to keep her firmly looking up at him.

The present, observing Severus wanted to disengage at once. He didn't take pleasure in seeing himself holding Lily hostage by the neck, even if he wasn't necessarily doing her any harm or cutting off her airway—yet. He tried shaking his head to disbar the image, but it wouldn't give.

"Have you tasted enough of me," his dream-like self was asking of Lily, a sickening smile that didn't feel at all genuine forming at the corners of his mouth, "or do you desire more?"

"Severus... I..." Lily whispered in return; there was something hesitant in that reply, her response akin to the young Lily he _really_ knew at heart; she grabbed ahold of his hand in an effort to push him off of her, but his grip was too strong.

"_Stop this_," Severus exclaimed, wishing that his damnable mind would cease with this crazed daydreaming; it seemingly wasn't at all within his power to control any longer.

Either this had been a deeply buried part of his torn self-conscience, which would be a troubling factor to work through in the days, months, or even years ahead, or Salazar Slytherin was imposing these images on him. He prayed for the latter, and, thankfully, found his wish granted in the next moments that followed.

Hovering over a too-passive Lily, Severus was relieved when, after his outburst, the imagery dissipated into darkness. In the next instant, he opened his eyes to find himself exactly where he'd been not long ago: in the centre of his bed chambers, laying supine on the floor with a pillow cradling his neck. Whether minutes or hours had passed was uncertain, but one thing was clear: he no longer had a painful erection. He hurriedly used his wand to cleanse himself, his ashen face lighting up with shame.

_Oh, Lily..._

What wasn't so alleviating at the change in scenery was the fiercely ominous look furrowing Salazar Slytherin's ghostly features. None of _this_ had been a dream; the Founder of Slytherin House _was _still here, much to Severus's disappointment. Let-down didn't scratch the surface. The threatening glare shooting down at him from his vulnerable position on the floor was most unsettling, and Severus wanted to raise his wand but found himself uncharacteristically immobile.

"You failed to heed my warning, boy," the ghost of Salazar Slytherin spoke with sinister wrath, swooping down upon him so fast that Severus couldn't so much as rear back to avoid him. "_You_ summoned _me_ tonight, on All Souls' Eve, to cower from my directions and guidance! You weakling!"

"I didn't summon you!" Severus fought back; he scurried a few feet backward and shot to his feet. "You've made me think I did, but I didn't! You seduced me! You wanted me to conjure you tonight, of all nights! Why is that?"

"Such lies!" Salazar spat, rising higher into the air. "Such cowardice!"

"_I'M NOT A COWARD!_" Severus bellowed from a rolling rumble deep within his chest. "_AND I'M_ NOT _YOUR BLOODY PROTÉGÉ!_"

"Why, you—"

"What did you mean by 'it's up to me to decide whether to make the images I saw tonight a reality'?" Severus demanded, both motivated and trepidatious about searching Salazar's ghost for an answer.

"Boy, now see here—"

Severus's wand emerged in front of him, grasped tightly in one hand. "Tell me now or I'll send you back to the depths of Hell where you came from!"

Salazar's imposing spirit wheeled back at being threatened. Unfortunately for him, Severus didn't miss the understated fears that were there one second and gone the next.

Finding some footing, Severus straightened the arm that held his wand firmly in hand, silently waiting on his Founder to explain himself.

"Once you've completed seeing the final task, your wish would be granted," he grumbled in a delicate hiss.

Severus blinked, taken aback. "_What?_ You were going to...actually force me onto Lil—that young woman of my fantasies?" he hastily corrected himself.

Salazar had enough swagger to smirk down at Severus, drawing closer to him despite the wand still pointed at the ready. "Yes! Isn't that what you want? Don't you _want_ to see your sexual desires fulfilled? To be rid of your innocence at last, you wretched boy?"

Severus took a long pause to riddle this out. He'd made a grave error this evening, one he never intended on repeating: giving into his darkest, deepest, most disturbing daydreams.

Yes, Salazar Slytherin may have been the culprit behind the far more enticing, self-assured Severus that came to him in his mind, who took Lily effortlessly over his knee and spanked her till her skin was raw, cursed her mind and body to the point that she ached for relief, and wheedled her to do his bidding, whatever he deemed appropriate; but, Severus realised in horror, _he'_d been the one who allowed the visions to go so far before finally tearing back and putting a stop to their occurrence. He'd _permitted_ himself to be meddled with by dark magic, knowing full well that there may be consequences at hand, and, still, he'd ignored their warnings.

"_No_," Severus whispered to a visibly upset Salazar, who'd chanced a couple steps closer. "I... I don't want that. I don't want any of it! Go back where you came from."

Salazar's zealous grey eyes sparked with fury. "_You_ are my protégé! You cannot send me away before the visions are complete—"

"_I want nothing from you, do you hear?_" Severus shouted at the top of his lungs, no longer concerned with how utterly desperate he sounded. "I'm _not_ your protégé! You have the wrong person, and you know it!"

"Severus Sna—"

"You've toyed with me enough! Be gone! _GO!_"

Salazar remained suspended in mid-air another long moment before, with an infuriated growl, his spirit began to shrink in size. "You'll regret this, boy!"

"I'm sure I shan't," Severus retorted back, bracing his inner fears by summoning the bravest sneer he could muster.

"These visions will haunt you! They'll torment and tear at you! You'll mourn the loss of them _never_ coming true!"

"I don't care!"

"You shall never be able to summon me again!"

Severus kept his wand pointed at the sputtering, incensed spirit of Salazar as he shrunk further and further into the pages of the Dark Arts book, cursing and shaking his fists as he went.

"Fair enough."

"Not on All Souls' Eve! Not_ ever_!"

"Perfectly fine by me," Severus asserted between clenched teeth.

Then, at last, the spirit of Salazar Slytherin disappeared, his booming, deep growl vanishing along with his ghost, and the room was still and strangely quiet, though Severus's heart continued thumping loudly in his ears for minutes more, until his legs finally broke apart and he managed to move.

In haste, Severus made his way to the centre of the room, slammed the book shut, casted a few self-protective charms that would, hopefully, keep himself, as well as the book, out of his damaging hands again, and sped off towards the common room.

Luckily, he didn't have to travel far to find his trouble-making bunkmates. Mulciber and Avery were sprawled out on two of the four leather couches in front of the hearth. They seemed to be boasting about themselves quite a bit, for a few too-easily impressed lady friends were chatting them up and sitting a little too close to be friendly.

Severus ignored their rotten guests and stalked over to his roommates. All conversation came to an awkward halt—the girls eying lanky, dirty-robed Severus with unimpressive stares, Mulciber and Avery apprehensively changing into sitting positions. Mulciber made an obvious rove of the sought-after book presently clasped under Severus's arm. Without hesitation, Severus threw it at him, and Mulciber fumbled to catch it before it hit the ground. He was about to curse him out before Severus beat him to it.

"I suggest you get rid of that damned book if either of you know what's good for you. Otherwise," he added with a provocative, frightening sort of sneer he'd seen himself employ successfully in his dreams, "have at it. Consider yourselves warned, you bloody idiots."

With that, Severus whipped around and strut off towards the door before Avery or Mulciber could call him back. It wasn't yet curfew. Hopefully there was still time to catch Lily before she returned to Gryffindor Tower for the night, if she wasn't closed off to him already.

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><p><strong><span>AN #2: Thank you for reading. Reviews are always greatly appreciated.**


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